


Out With a Bang

by chellerrific



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Choose Your Own Ending, Demeter Did, Drunkenness, F/M, Multi, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:31:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chellerrific/pseuds/chellerrific
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turning the evening around by crossing one thing off her bucket list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out With a Bang

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saturninepen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturninepen/gifts).



> The possibility of this happening has been discussed, and so I had to write it for Rachel's birthday.

Demeter was pissed. The angry kind of pissed, unfortunately, not the drunk kind of pissed, all though she fully intended to be the latter before the night was over—it was New Year’s Eve, after all, and she had that right. (As she was a goddess, this did take some effort, but it was completely doable, and nothing was going to stop her from doing it tonight.)

Olympians loved any excuse to party. Not that most of them needed an excuse, but over thousands of years and dozens of cultures, there were enough festivals, anniversaries, and holidays that pretty much every day afforded even the thinnest veneer of a “reason,” if one felt obligated to look for such a thing. There were always _some_ days that required bigger celebrations than others, though which exactly depended heavily on the culture and mien of their current residence (apart from the solstices, which were constants). New Year’s was currently one of the other big party days, though, and the size of the current celebration reflected that.

But until she had a few dozen more glasses of wine in her, Demeter wasn’t in much of a celebratory mood, and it was, as usual, all Hades’ fault. Demeter had gone to the trouble of making sure it was all right for Persephone to join the festivities on Olympus for just one night even though it was the middle of winter, but Persephone had turned down her offer, saying she and Hades already had plans.

Demeter had gone out into her garden and coaxed some narcissuses out of the ground just so she could step on them and grind them under her heel. Demeter loved all things green and growing but she was so furious at that moment she was willing to make an exception. The satisfaction was delicious, if fleeting, and afterwards she looked down at what was left of the little plant with more than a touch of regret.

And now she was at the party and everyone was having a grand time except her. She threw back another glass of wine and decided what she really needed was to fuck somebody who hated Hades as much as she did. The problem was that there was no one who filled that particular qualification; Demeter was and always would be charter member and president of the We Hate Hades Club. She tried to think of people who might come close, though. The first name that popped into her mind was Apollo, but she wasn’t drunk enough for that. Probably could not be drunk enough ever. (She remembered him showing up at her door with his stupid harp and his ridiculous lyric poetry hoping to woo Persephone. As if he could ever be good enough for her. As if anyone could ever be good enough for her. And then that… _man_ had just shown up and _stolen_ her away…)

There was the sound of breaking glass. Demeter realized it was the one she’d held in her hand shattering as she squeezed her fist around it. She was not nearly drunk enough yet.

That was when she noticed him: sitting on a couch making out with a nymph while Amphitrite pretended not to notice was Poseidon. He hated Hades. Or something close enough to hate anyway. Thinking of Poseidon made her think of Zeus. They were both viable options and easily enough seduced. She could tell Zeus and Hera had fought recently by the fractionally-further-turned-down corners of Hera’s mouth.

While Demeter helped herself to more wine and tried to decide between the two of them, her head started to swim a little. Good. She was getting closer to enough. She kept on drinking. This did have the unfortunate effect of causing decision-making to become increasingly difficult, though.

That was when she realized: why choose? Why not enjoy both? Nobody had ever been able to convince her they hadn’t hooked up with each other at _least_ once, if not more. Oh, they denied it vehemently, but it just seemed like such an outlandish thing to consider otherwise, given both their personalities.

Demeter had actually fantasized about what it would be like to have both at once. She’d thought about it a few times, in fact. Okay, more than a few times. Quite often. They were both amazing lovers; there was no way the experience of them together wouldn’t be mind-blowing. She’d gone so far as to drop hints about it before but the timing had never been quite right.

The timing was right now, though, she was absolutely sure of it. She’d never been more sure of anything in her long, _long_ life, apart from that Hades was the scourge of all existence. She felt it in her very bones.

She started making her way across the room, catching Zeus’s eye as she passed and crooking a finger at him to follow. The floor lurched ever so slightly, and she had to concentrate to keep Poseidon in focus, but she made it to the couch and dispatched the interloping nymph easily enough.

Things began to fade in earnest rapidly after that.

* * *

When Demeter awoke the next morning, she was alone in her own bed. Bad sign. But also she was naked and the sheets were thrashed. Good signs.

She struggled to recover her memories through the haze. There were flashes—a kiss here, a touch there, and quite a bit of ripping. Faces were hard to bring into focus, but fortunately, Demeter knew both of their bodies well enough that faces weren’t a requirement to be sure about their identities. The touch of that solid ab, the slight taste of salt on her tongue, that was Poseidon for sure. The vague metallic scent of ozone, the stubborn refusal to be anywhere but on top, that was Zeus, guaranteed.

Demeter grinned with satisfaction and stretched out on her bed. It would take a little effort and perhaps a visit to Mnemosyne to fill in all the blanks, but she felt confident she had accomplished one of her longest-standing goals.

She waltzed through Olympus, mint and barley springing up in her wake despite the fact that the earth far below her feet was blanketed in snow.

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” Zeus remarked as he passed. “Can’t say I’m surprised, of course.”

“Mm,” Demeter purred. She was feeling generous enough to allow Zeus his oversized ego without a fight. “Interesting I actually got to be there for a new sexual experience of yours. Well, as close to new as it’s possible for you to have at this point, anyway.”

Zeus narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Demeter threw back her head and let out a hearty laugh. “Well, I know it wasn’t new for you to be with me, and of course it wasn’t new for you to be with Poseidon, but both of us at _once_ —”

A shadow passed over Zeus’s face. “That never happened.”

Demeter just laughed again.

“I’m serious,” he said, the look in his eyes so intense it gave her pause. “You and I were together last night. I saw you with Barnacle Head too, so I’m sure you had a piece of that as well, but it was _not_ at the same time as me, that I guarantee.”

Demeter frowned, her good mood dimming, the plants wilting behind her. Come to think of it, while she could remember Zeus, and she could remember Poseidon, nothing in her fuzzy memory indicated both at once.

Zeus suddenly grinned again. “Still an excellent night, if the volume and multitude of your screams are anything to go by, and also by how many orgasms I gave you, which was a lot.” With a look of sheer cocky satisfaction, he strolled on past her down the walkway, whistling.

She hated to admit that he had a point. She had enjoyed herself, regardless. But she’d really wanted that ménage—

Poseidon abruptly rounded a corner and nearly ran into Zeus. Demeter couldn’t help but notice how he and Zeus both seemed to hesitate and—was it her imagination, or were they having trouble meeting one another’s eyes?

Unbidden, Demeter’s grand feeling began to bloom in her chest once more. Maybe she hadn’t been so mistaken after all.


End file.
